Trials of Gods
by Anubis81
Summary: Home is where the heart is, isn't it? Will one pagh be made whole or will it be forever torn in two? ***limbo***
1. Prologue

Disclaimer:

The characters, worlds, etc of Star Trek are the copyright property of Gene Roddenberry, Parmount Studios, etc. As they do not belong to me, I am not making any money off of them. I am only playing in the would already created and promise to put them back after I am done. All disclaimer rights apply. In other words, anything recognized is not mine.

The others had been furious with his sudden decision to leave, leaving him to his own devices until his departure. In the end, they had come to accept the path he now walked took him from their euphoria and back to a familiar place. Instead of leaving in disgrace as once before, he left them with their blessing and an understanding. As the transporter had brought him aboard the vessel, hope for the future flared brightly in his soul.

Once upon a time, he would have been concerned by the isolation from the rest of the crew. Now he lurked in the shadows of the bridge, grateful for the sacrare of his position. It would have once bothered him to be viewed as a sacer, but those thoughts and beliefs belonged in another life, and yet they were still very much a part of him, of who he was. He wondered if he had changed much during the intervening years, would they others recognize him and how much had changed during his absence.

Thousands of stars now rushed past him as he stared out the ship's view screen. In the back of his mind he could hear the faint buzz of activity as the bridge crew quietly submitted to their tasks and left him to his own thoughts. His thoughts slowly turned to past events, events that had shaped the universe as he once knew it. Despite the last four years of uneasy peace, an emptiness persistently filled his heart. Once upon a time he had believed that duty could fill the hole and he had found some peace despite the aching of his own heart. Now as they slowly reached their destination, he knew that the lie was no longer sufficient.

He had justified his actions, consoled himself with the knowledge of the numbers that had survived because of the sacrifice of two. But in the end, when the nights were lonely and cold, he would rail against those that had driven them apart. He had lashed violently lashed out at those he had responsible for his pain, for the loneliness that had kept him company even in the arms of Eden. No matter the outcome, the end of his journey would be a saccarify one. Unconsciously, his feet pushed against the deck plates of the bridge as though superstitiously that he could singlehandedly increase the sheer speed of the vessel.

Beneath his feet, he could feel the vessel's speed slowly surceasing to the pull of gravity. From his corner on the bridge, he could see the familiar constellations as they drew closer to the end of their journey. Despite the swelling of joy at the sight, his feet remained cemented to the deck. Magnetized as he watched his fantasies unfold before him, a shiver of anticipation quaked through his being. He was numbly conscious of the fluid of activity humming at the edges of his mind as the last few course adjustments were made. His senses tinged with the unexpected joy discovered with the knowledge of being so close to the greatest discovery of his life.

Mesmerized with the prospects of the immediate future, he could do nothing more then wait as the vessel's speed was adjusted to accommodate the last leg of the journey and the beginning of the next. The world shrank in, surrounding him as his thoughts passed through the vast emptiness of space. The comforting hum of activity around him faded as a single voice called to him above the deafening static.


	2. Alone Again

Warm breath trailed across her exposed flesh, sending a cascade of shivers through her heart. A soft sigh dipped from her lips as she unconsciously snuggled deeper into the warm embrace of her lover's body. A contented smile slowly spread across the features of her face as a restful sleep gently guided her dreams. Shifting slightly, she pulled her lover's body tightly around her own. Briefly, her body stretched before relaxing again and curling around her lover once more. A soft moan whispered from her parted lips as the dream escalated.

"The time is oh-five hundred hours." Her face scrunched together as she groaned, inwardly cursing the automated interruption of the station's computer. Pushing away the tangled web of blankets, she grimaced as the cool air assaulted her body. Leaving a trail of haphazardly discarded clothes in her wake, she stumbled into the sonic shower. Slowly the tremors riddling her body subsided as the steaming heat crept its way into her body, re-energizing the sluggish motors of her brain.

She choked, spurting water as fleeting images of the dream were unconsciously conjured. Tears slowly trailed a familiar path down her face as she slumped against the wall and slowly sank to the wet floor as her shoulders shook. Pulling her legs against her body and tucking her knees beneath her chin, she wrapped her arms around herself as she rocked herself back and forth. Her muffled sobs echoed in the catacomb atmosphere of her quarters as her grief threatened to ravage the remnants of her shattered heart.

The last four years had been spent sticking to the essentials, politely smiling as she declined another invitation to join one crew member or another onboard the station. Everywhere she went, another memory of their short time together surfaced. She knew that it would have been easier if he had been killed, that she might have had a chance to continue with her life if he had. Dax had seemed to understand how she felt and after a few disastrous attempts of attempting to enjoy their off-duty hours in one of Quark's holosuites, the Trill had given up and had voluntarily confined herself to socializing during their meal breaks. Privately, she was convinced that the Trill especially enjoyed tormenting her with Dax's stubborn instances that if she didn't have a private life that she should make it up with a social one.

While she understood their daily meals was Dax's way of supporting her, she still resented it. Guilt was convenient enough to follow suit when she thought of him and what he would say. The tears would soon follow on the heels of his voice whispering in her ear or the feel of his arms holding her, cradling her. The world never stood still for her or for the wounds of her heart to heal. The fact that he wasn't nearby didn't stop her from expressing the pain she felt with his absence, increased by the vivid dream her wishes had conjured. She lashed out at the most convenient substitute, letting her emotions have free reign for the first time since his departure. Her hands stung with each sharp slap against the insides of the shower stall until her sobs slowly dissipated.

Stinging red hands slowly reached upward, trembling fingers slid up the control panel. The last few warm droplets of water slowly dribbled from the nozzle and splashed on her upturned face, washing the stray remains of her tears down the curved features of her face. She shivered as the cool air slowly infiltrated the controlled environment of the shower, reflecting the numb sensation inside of her. She watched in a daze as the towel dried her goosebumped flesh. She was dimly aware of dressing before stepping outside of her quarters.

A/N

Alicia Jo Twain : Thanks for your review. Sorry this chapter is so short, I am working on the next one and it'll hopefully be longer.

Aurora West : Thanks for the review.


	3. Familiar Faces

Operations was swarming with activity as the morning shift slowly began and the night shift was slipping into the shadows as they hurried to their individually separate quarters in the habitat ring. "Computer, begin morning shift." The internal computer of the station hummed softly, subtly heralding the sudden increase in the room's illumination.

Surveying the circular room, she absently noted the absence of the station's commanding officer. Shrugging it off, she mused the Bajoran could use a few extra minutes and put off summoning her. Despite the rejuvenation of their little corner of the galaxy, she knew that the last four years were difficult for her friend. She had refused to allow her friend to slip beyond the reach of anyone and had insisted on the Bajoran interacting with others on the station, in desperation she had sought the patent wisdom of Curzon and Jadzia. Dragging Bashir into her devious plot had merely been a spur of the moment decision when they had come across him in Quark's.

The Ferengi had been mortified as he helplessly watched as she had drug the pair kicking and screaming to the upper level of his bar. Manipulating Quark, she had managed to wrangle a holosuite free for the three of them. Selecting a program of twentieth century Earth had been her first mistake, she realized looking back with hindsight. The second was having the Ferengi provide authentic alcoholic beverages was the second.

An hour later found the trio deliriously drunk, lying on the stone floor of a deserted café in a replicated Paris, France. While she found herself relaxing as time went by, the others were farther gone. Bashir had curled up against the leg of a table and was mumbling incoherently about battle tactics for the defense of the Alamo to a non-present Chief O'Brien. The Bajoran woman was lying on her side, watching the amber liquid trickle from the glass limply held in her hand as tears streamed down her face. She realized then that nothing short of a miracle in the form of certain gruff Changeling was likely to change the Bajoran's mind, thus she had forced herself to be limit the forced socializing to pre-arranged meals throughout the day.

As the turbolift jerked to a halt, she let her eyes follow the exhausted form until it disappeared behind the sliding glass doors of the looming office. It seemed to the unbiased party that the Reckoning had indeed began despite the late Kai Winn's treacherous intervention. Since the end of the Dominion War, the Bajoran space station had found itself once more the pivotal point in the war between economy and physical space as ships once more braved the only known stable wormhole to explore the worlds that lay beyond. Bajor found itself submersed in an economical boom unseen in nearly a century as it prepared itself to become the newest world to join the Federation.

The computer console in front of her beeped, demanding her attention. Her lips pursed slightly as she turned her gaze back to the screen. As the data scrawled across the polished screen, her thoughts returned to the current events. While the bureaucratic politicians and various religious members debated on the latest issue brought before them, the crew of the orphaned Cardassian station labored to accommodate numerous visiting dignitaries and their ships' crews from at the mouth of the wormhole. Despite being originally designed to accommodate several Galor class warships simultaneously, the staff of Ops was forced to decline docking privileges to several vessels.

Several extra detachments of Bajoran security squadrons had been temporarily reassigned to the station in addition to both the Starfleet and Bajoran attachments that were already assigned. With the sudden influx in numbers of visitors and inhabitants, very few found the time to enjoy their off duty hours. While this inconvenience bothered a large percentage of the station's regular crew, she noticed that one in particular didn't seem to mind the extra work. Glancing up at the Commander's office, she watched the figure diligently work on the stack of padds piled on the geometrical Cardassian desk. She frowned as a wasp of hair limply fell and laid across the hand propping up the Bajoran's head.

The last four years had been a difficult trial for those that had been left behind, those slated to stay and man the station. After Sisko had left, she had found herself consoling a grieving Jake and a resigned Kassidy. Though she had accomplished the near impossible and continued a friendship that had spanned three hosts, Dax found herself realizing that she hadn't known Benjamin Sisko as well as she had believed two or even one host prior. A bittersweet warmth had enfolded her as she spent more and more time with his son and wife. Even his father, Joseph had illuminated a part of him that she had been oblivious to.

The console beeped, startling the Trill out of her thoughts. A soft smile spread across her youthful face as she recognized the source, her fingers danced lightly on the controls. Sometime during her rumination, the _U.S.S. Roosevelt_ had arrived without her noticing. She was just grateful that no one else had noticed her lapse in attention to the activities surrounding the station. As the last command was entered, she turned towards the oval shaped screen. Her smile brightened as a familiar face filled the empty screen, "welcome to _Deep Space Nine_."

"I see you are still suffering from cheerfulness in the morning, Ensign."

"It's nice to see you again as well, _Professor_ O'Brien. Though if you don't mind me saying, you're a bit late." Smiling, she noticed the confused look on O'Brien's face. "Lieutenant Campbell has finished installing the new deflector shields _and_ has the environmental controls functioning, properly."

"You let a Scot's touch _my_ station?" O'Brien blurted before smiling weakly at someone off the screen. "Bloody hell, probably doesn't even know a power conduit from a gell pack."

"Not my problem as_ I_ stayed here and _you_ had to go traipsing back to Earth to teach at the Academy, now is it?"

"No respect for a man's prerogative, bloody hell."

"Besides Chief, what's the difference between an Irishman and a Scotsman?"

"What's the difference?!" O'Brien sputtered, clearly at a lost for words as he stared at Trill across subspace.

"You both drink and fight about the same," Dax smirked, her eyes twinkling as she was rewarded with a glare from the chief.

Pushing her husband to the side, Keiko smiled warmly at the Trill. "I was wondering if it wouldn't be too much trouble to come aboard, you two can continue this face to face."

"Of course, you must be tired from your trip from Earth. But with the current influx of ships in the vicinity, I'm afraid that the _Roosevelt_ will not be allowed to dock and we'll have to send a runabout for you." Dax said apologetically.

"That's alright, Ezri." Keiko said cutting off her husband's protests before they had a chance to start. "We'll see you in a bit." Dax nodded absentmindedly as the screen faded to black, her fingers flying across the control panel of the console as she relayed instructions to the starship. The screen in front of her flashed as the vessel acknowledged her instructions before she turned her attention to scheduling a runabout to rendevous with the _Roosevelt_.

She stared, unseeing at the mound of paperwork crowding every inch of available space on the desk. Before the captain had left to walk with her Prophets, Kira had believed the seemingly antiquated station ran itself. That the captain's role had simply been one of fielding paperwork and playing the resident diplomat. It had seemed a reasonably simple position, until he had suddenly left. She had found herself drowning in the responsibilities of the office, although she was grateful for the legitimate excuse to avoid spending off duty time with Dax on the Promenade.

It seemed like a different life to her, when she was only the temporary commander of the station and they were all waiting for the captain to return. The death of Jadzia Dax had left a gaping hole in everyone on board _Deep Space Nine,_ But then she had someone to lean on and someone to come home to. Looking back over those few short months, she couldn't help but envy the relationships that were blossoming all around her. Kira hadn't expected the world to stop turning just because of her broken heart, but had hoped in beginning that time would ease the devastating ache of her heart.

The irony of her present situation wasn't lost on her. She had always been alone, even in the Shakaar Cell. Living day to day; surviving by taking a life before yours was taken and lying awake at night, wondering if tomorrow was the end of your own suffering. After the Occupation, her life had changed once again and she had found herself assigned to the desolate space station discarded by the Cardassians as they hastily retreated. The station had been in better condition then she had imagined when the recently formed Bajoran Militia had first informed her of the assignment.

Looking back on the time she had spent on the station, Kira knew that she had been foolish to attempt to balk the Bajoran Militia. Her brown eyes gazed down on the self-contained world of Ops. New faces had taken the place of old and had become as familiar as her own. The door chime chirped, tearing her away from the memories of the past and sling shooting her back to the present. Unconsciously straightening herself in the chair, she cleared her throat. "Enter," she grimaced inwardly as Dax walked into the office.

"The _Roosevelt_ has arrived and the O'Briens' will be shuttled on board within the hour." The Trill said as she crossed the open space and sat down in one of the available chairs. "How are you holding up?"

"As usual, I'm waiting to wake up." Kira said offhandedly as she stared over the Trill's shoulder.

"I understand, Nerys. With Bajor joining the Federation, it feels as though I'm living in a dreamworld of my own making." Dax smiled shyly, reminding Kira of a cherubic schoolgirl and not the seemingly ancient woman she had once served with. Stretching, Dax glanced at the emotionally exhausted Bajoran. "Dinner tonight at Vic's"

"Not tonight, I need to get caught up on all this paperwork or Starfleet will have my hide." Kira turned her attention back to the sprawling pile of PADDs on the desk.

Taking the hint, "alright." Dax said as she relectantly retreated from the office h a brief glance backwards as the glass doors slid closed behind her.

Kira sighed, releasing the breath she was unaware of holding as the doors closed. Her body slumped against the back of the chair, the natural curves of her body fitting snugly into the manufactured curves of the padded chair. Absently her eyes fell on the baseball resting on the edge of the desk. The familiar object, though simple and innocent, reopened the tender wounds of her heart. On the same day she had lost her commanding officer, she had lost the missing piece of her pagh.

Until he had told her he was returning to the others, she had been oblivious to the fact she had at one time been missing a piece of the puzzle that was her pagh. As she had plotted the return trip, Kira realized that he was as much apart of her and as necessary as air was. It had taken a resolve unbeknownst to her until the time to _not_ pry him away and race back to the station with him in restraints if need be . Her respect for him as good, decent man he always was and her love for him had prevented her from following through with the plan. Once back on the station, Kira had felt guilty for encouraging and entertaining such selfish thoughts.

Her brown eyes widened slightly, subconsciously following the lead of the Bajoran wormhole. Her breath faltered as she watched spellbound at the regal beauty bursting suddenly to life against the fathomless backdrop of darkness and he millions of twinkling stars. Intoxicated, Kira watched as the glowing gold tendril swept out from the descending spiral cone of intertwining ribbons of crimson against the deep sapphire of the cone. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she watched a ship effortlessly glide from the wormhole. Silently, Kira sent a familiar fevered prayer against the odds that he was finally coming home to her. "I hope, I pray."


	4. Half FullHalf empty

From his perch on the upper causeway, he watched the laughing trio stroll into _Quark's_. His bottomless blue eyes followed the lean form of the woman that he had loved and forsook years ago. As they crossed the threshold, he slipped silently into the shadows and crept inside the large gaming establishment. His eyes sought the familiar shapes of the three figures that had drawn him from the docking ring earlier in the day. As he observed the interactions unfolding at the table beneath him, his thoughts pulled him back to his own return to the station.

The state of security on _Deep Space Nine_ had greatly alarmed him. It seemed that the peace that had followed the Dominion withdrawal from the Alpha Quadrant was the culprit, leaving the station vulnerable in the wake of those who were sworn to protect and serve the occupants own lack of responsibility and vigilance. He knew all too well how easily one of his own kind could slip under their radar and wreck havoc before disappearing altogether again. He didn't understand, couldn't understand, why security had been allowed to degrade so greatly in his absence.

It appeared to him that the station that he had left four years ago and the one that he had returned to were two completely different ones. It wasn't that the station's current security chief and personnel weren't adequate for the statio's _current_ demands, he only feared that _if_ his mission was successful then the old Cardassian station would see twice as much traffic then it had during the peek of the Dominion War and _that_ was what truly concerned him.

"Dabo!" He smiled to himself as he watched the stunned Bolian gather his winnings as the Bajoran Dabo girl kissed him soundly on the cheek. Truth be told, he had missed the sights and sounds of the station's diverse population. Life on his own homeworld had brought him a small measure of peace, but unfortunately it hadn't lasted like he had initially hoped. After delivering the cure for the plague that had ravaged his people, he had settled down to enjoy the rest that he was convinced that he was entitled to.

His sapphire eyes twinkled with bittersweet happiness as he watched the happy reunion beneath his feet. _Always the outsider, always the on looking in with an empty hand._ On the heels of his self-pitying thoughts, _but all I have to do is reveal myself and they'll accept me back. _Before he could convince himself to join his former comrades, self doubt launched its attack. _Its been four years, look at them! They've moved on with their lives and _you've _held yourself back. You lost your chance to truly belong with them when you broke your link with them the day that you agreed to return to your people like a delinquent child bending to a parent's will._ "Dabo!" The sound of the excited laughter lifted, blanketing _Quark's_ once again as a middle-aged Bajoran hugged the scantily clad Daboo girl in celebration.

He looked on absently, lost amongst his memories of the journey that had brought him full circle. After spending a year immersed in the culture and life of his people, co-habiting with them, he had eagerly leapt at the first available opportunity presented to leave his homeworld. For nearly three years he had explored the boundaries the domain that they had forged for themselves, carrying out the most mundane of missions happily. He had learned more about himself and his race in the first handful of months then he had whilst he had been amongst them.

Six months prior to his arrival in the Bajoran Sector, he had been abruptly summoned back to their homeworld. Initially, he feared that they were recalling him for disciplinary measures despite the fact that he hadn't committed any transgressions. When he had arrived planet side, he had mentally slapped himself in self-punishment. Almost immediately, he had been quietly greeted by the other proxies that had been sent out both before and after his own departure. Sparing them a nod, he had quickly followed the others into the very heart of his people.

For the next five months he had spent every waking moment if existence sequestered with the rest of race, debating the pros and cons of the possible outcomes of a proposed future. He had never before that time witnessed the uproar that the proposal had caused amongst his kind, many were still clutch-full of the old fears and the old ways that served his kind for thousands of years. The division amongst his people stabbed at the very core of him and had nearly brought around a minor rebellion between the two debating sides. In the end, the consensus was in favor of the offer that had been brought back to them by one of their deep space emissaries.

A month prior to their departure, he and two others of his kind had been selected and counseled on points of interest and prominence before being dispatched to the Bajoran Sector and _Deep Space Nine_. The trip to the station itself had been one of the longest that he'd ever been on. The ship's crew had been tip-toeing on eggshells during the entire voyage, wary of triggering his wrath. Even his two companions had seemed to sense his the state of his mood and had given him a wide berth. When they had finally arrived, they refrained from inquiring as to his appearance upon being greeted at the air lock by the station's delegations.

He wasn't surprised by the amount of security that had been present, just behind the envoy that had greeted them. His companions had reacted cooly, accepting the fact that these _aliens_ felt the need to have some of their own guards with them upon their arrival. Like himself, they disagreed with the station's representatives in regards to their security forces guarding them and had politely, but _firmly_ demanded that the detachment that had been brought along with tem would be the _only_ security force that they would require. Surprisingly enough, the StarFleet admiral that had greeted them seemed to understand and suggested that the station's detachment of security personnel would only _escort_ them initially and _only_ to their guest quarters.

The crowd below him swelled and dispersed under his absent gaze. His sky blue eyes jerked to the side, unconsciously tracking the movements of the Frengi bar keep bustling about to fill the wait staffs' orders. A faint smirk crept across his alien features before his patented expressionless mask slipped back into place. "The more things change, the more they stay the same. A burning light in this strange land of my old home," he mused to himself as he watched Quark's hand rub his lobe. "Now, what has caught your greedy little eye I wonder." Leaning against the railing of the upper deck of the bar, he wrestled with the urge to pounce on the itchy Frengi twenty feet away from him. The driving need to rest reared its head abruptly, forcing him to abandon any plans to scare the daylights of Quark.

A single wistful glance at the oblivious Frengi and a parting look of longing at the laughing red haired Bajoran woman, he relented and retreated to his assigned guest quarters. He slipped through the throng of people crowding the promenade unnoticed, his alien features blending so completely with the great multitude of colors and shapes. After escaping safely into the nearest turbolift, he relaxed and let his skin pigments darken as his hair color lightened to resemble the white of fresh snow. Like a chameleon, he changed the general appearance with small alterations. Twin antenna gradually sprouted above and in front of his ears on his head. Glancing at the changes in his appearance in the mirror-like surface of the closed trubolift doors, he was pleased to see the average looking Andorian face looking back at him. The lift hummed gently as it carried him to his level.

Absently, he strolled out of the turbolift doors and down the corridor towards his quarters. He was gratified to note that Oronc had been successful in eliminating the security detail assigned to escort and guard his envoy. It wasn't that he didn't trust the contingent of Starfleet officers and Bajoran deputies to perform their duties regardless of their personal views, it was simply that he had grown accustomed to relying soling on his own people performing these functions without a second thought. He wasn't alone either, his two companion's felt the same way and had quietly sought assurances from him as he understood the ways of the people here better then any of their kind did. He had in turn dumped the problem onto Oronc's shoulders and trusting that matters would end satisfactory, had slipped away to reacquaint himself with his old home.

After slipping in and out of the hard to reach nooks and crannies that were once his favorite haunts during his antisocial moods, he had made his way tp the soul of the station. He had arrived on the promenade as an average looking middle-aged Bajoran, blending perfectly in with the station's _native_ population. He had patrolled the promenade anonymously and had enjoyed the feeling that accompanied his old routine before slipping into the shadows and into a nearby air vent. He had then made his way to the airlock in time to see _her_ and follow stealthy through the spaces between the deck plates, thus beating them to _Quark's_ in a timely fashion without anyone realizing his presence. He stubbornly resisted the impulse to acknowledge the soldiers lining the corridor walls as he neared his assigned guest quarters.

Four years ago, he would have balked at the notion of using the resources offered to him by his people. He had stubbornly resisted succumbing to relying on those employed in service by his people until a year prior to being sent to the station on their behalf. As he reached his quarters, "forgive my intrusion. But might I speak with a you for a moment, Ijoufu?"

He hung his head momentarily as he mentally sighed, "a moment and no longer." He reluctantly agreed as he punched in the access code and stepped across the threshold. Retreating into the darkest corner in the room, "half lights." The computer chirped softly as it complied with his command, "what's on your mind?"

"You have been quiet, Ijoufu. Perhaps you wish to relieve yourself?"

Leaning back against the wall, he motioned for the other man to sit as well. "Nothing gets past your all seeing eyes."

"Ijoufu, I am charged by Heaven to serve you in all things. That is a most serious task now more then ever and I would be neglectful of my duties if I failed to take note of when you were in need of me most."

Chuckling softly, "what would become of me without you at my side, Oronc?"

A gentle smirk played at the edges of Oronc's lips, "whatever Heaven proclaims I imagine." Settling himself across from his Tentei, "tell me what troubles."

Slumping, "everything."

"Then perhaps you should begin with the smallest and gradually work our way to the larger issues, Ijoufu."

He stared at Oronc, nodding to himself. When he had first left his homeworld, Oronc had been assigned to him as his own private shadow. At first he had viewed the other man as an annoyance and had kept him at arm's length. Over time he had realized the value of the Oronc constantly at his side, relying more and more on his counsel. "I'm lost, my friend; truly and utterly lost. I feel like an intruder here, and I know that I shouldn't considering that _this was_ my home for seven years and fifty more down on Bajor itself. For a brief shining moment in time, I felt like I truly belonged and I was _happy_ not being an outsider anymore." He lapsed into silence and stared out of the window into the ocean of stars.

"I see, but are you an outsider _now_?"

Snorting, "of course I am."

"_Why_?"

"Because I left," shaking his head, "I left them four years ago!"

"I see, Ijoufu. But tell me this: Have _they_ told you that feel abandoned, that you are no longer counted as one of their friends?" Oronc asked quietly, an elegant eyebrow raised in question.

"Yes," he snapped, "I mean no...I mean..."

"Have you even _spoken_ with them?" Oronc prodded, determined to ease his Tentei's mind.

"There is no need, I _know_ them."

"Ah, the old and reliable '_I know'_ deductive method of reasoning. I'd bet my last doru that they aren't even aware of your presence aboard this station!" Sighing, "I already know the answer. You once told me of how you protected and worked with these people for seven years: You've seen them at their best and their worst, I'm sure that the same could be said in reverse."

"You still don't understand, Oronc."

"Why? Because you are a Tentei; all-knowing?" Breathing deeply, "try talking to them and they may surprise even you, Odo. After all, it is a great feat to surprise a god I am told."

"How did you get so..."

"Wise?"

"Annoying, Oronc," Odo growled. "Annoying!"

Laughing, "nine lifetimes of practicing." Sobering instantly, "next problem." Watching the conflicting emotions cascade across his Tentei's normally impassive face, "Kira Nerys."

The edges of Odo's lips twitched, "I know there was a reason that I've kept you around."

"Other then that you fear that Heaven would discover the secrets you've entrusted into my keeping, Ijoufu." The Vorta smiled slyly as he adjusted himself on the hard chair across from the Founder.

"Perhaps, Oronc." Odo nodded as he returned his gaze to the star speckled ocean just beyond the window. "There is nothing to say in regards to Nerys. She has moved on and wouldn't appreciate any further speculations or intrusions into her personal life."

Oronc noted the sadness radiating from the Changeling's body and the despairing tone of voice. "Forgive my presumptions, but on what evidence have you based your conclusions on?"

"Oronc, I need not to see it with my own eyes to know that it's true." Odo wrapped his arms around his legs and hugged them tightly to his chest.

"Speak with her, Odo." Sighing in frustration, "you're only tormenting your own Kon without knowing! If she has moved on, then you're free to seek someone else. If she has not, then perhaps you two _might_ be able to pick up the pieces of what you two once shared." Looking into the Changeling's sky blue eyes, "at the very least she'll know that you're on the station. What do you really have to lose?"

Odo paced the quarters back and forth, "I need to rest. Oronc, I will think on what you've said."

Bowing, I serve _you_ in all things. Peace be with you and Heaven guide you, Ijoufu." Oronc said before slipping quietly out of the quarters and leaving his Tentei to his own thoughts.

Once the doors had shut on themselves again, Odo's body melted. The golden pillar sank gratefully to the floor of the cabin and relaxed into a large gelatinous puddle. While the surface of his natural form was peaceful, his thoughts were a whirlwind of activity. "_A pretty girl like you shouldn't be eating all alone." _A ripple disturbed the tranquil puddle as a column of shimmering gold jetted skyward. Slowly the great mass began to shape itself as two branches separated from the pillar and gradually formed into arms. The top curved, forming the featureless shape of a humanoid head as the bottom of the gold tinted mass splintered into two separate appendages resembling the rough and unfinished shapes of legs. In mere moments Odo had completed his unconscious sculpting of his old form.


	5. Hauntings

"_A pretty girl like you shouldn't be eating all alone."_ Tears streamed down her cheeks, soaking the pillow as fleeting images and sensations cascaded before her eyes in the dark. Alone and shivering in her bed, she recalled that the silken caress of his gelatinous form had felt so real against her dream-self's flesh. Her body tingled with the urgent need that had been awoken by her vivid dream. As she closed her eyes, she could hear his gravely voice whispering promises of eternal love and devotion in her ears as he worshiped at the temple that was her body. Sobbing softly, she rolled onto her side and sought her escape in the dreams that had delivered her so readily before from the cold reality of her life. Squeezing her eyes shut against the harsh reality of the memories that was besieged against her, she feverishly clung to the to the flimsy flights of fancy that carried her away into fantasy where her beloved awaited her only a dream away. The memories of the day rallied around her, dragging her back into the cold embrace of reality as they one by one assaulted her and crumbled her fragile defenses.

Kira Nerys had sprinted down the length of the docking ring until she had reached the airlock where the Dominion envoy ship was docked at and had waited breathlessly to catch a glimpse of him as the Gamma Quadrant diplomats had disembarked. She had felt her fragile heart shatter upon the realization that he wasn't amongst their numbers. Masking her pain, she had forced herself to perform her duties in light of the fact that her heart was breaking yet again. After greeting the Dominion delegation with all the respect that was commanded by Starfleet protocol, she had escaped to her quarters to cry over his absence once again.

Admitting that sleep, for the night at least, was going to elude her, Kira rolled over her bed with a heavy sigh. "Quarter lights," as soon as the words had left her mouth the computer responded. In the dim lighting, she wandered aimlessly into her sitting room. The lateness of the hour reassured her that despite her current state of undress that she wouldn't be having any unexpected visitors. Leaning against the wall for support, "raktajino with two measures of kava." The replicator hummed in response as it produced her order. Gingerly grasping the mug, she aimlessly wandered across the room and collapsed on the sofa, tucking her right leg beneath her.

After Odo's departure to cure his people of Section 31's engineered plague and to try to educate them in regards to the modern universe, solids in general; Kira's restless nights had been haunted with dreams of her absent Changeling lover. While her mind understood his absence, her continuously breaking heart could not. She had tried on numerous occasions, with the enthusiastic support of both Doctor Bashir and Dax, to move on with her life. The problems that she faced was the fact that where ever she went, Kira would recall a conversation or an incident in this corridor or that. She would her his voice softly speaking her name as she passed by the Security Office on the station's promenade, or remember an off-handed comment that he had made. In short, the station itself reminded her of what she had sacrificed: what _they_ had sacrificed.

Late at night, when sleep evaded her, Kira couldn't help but feel like laughing at the self-pitying figure that she had become. She felt guilty for hating him; Hating him because all she had to look forward to was an empty cabin and a cold bed. During the day she felt like a traitor to him when she would cast an appraising eye on one man or another who crossed paths with her. When she had confided to Dax, the young Trill had seen right through her. _"Did he say that he would return in a year? Two years? Three or four? Nerys, you need to move on. Odo wouldn't want to be a source of pain for you, he'd want you to be happy."_ Grimacing at the memory, she wiped a rogue tear from her cheek. Kira rationalized that if anyone knew the truth behind Dax's advice, it was herself. To date, Kira never knew the final count on how many times that Odo had sacrificed chance after chance to let her know exactly how he had felt about her and had placed her own happiness above and beyond anything else. What little she did know, shattered the remnants of her broken heart. Kira hated herself, because afterwards she would curse him in every language that she knew for not speaking up sooner and for not giving them the chance to be together longer then a few _too_ short months.

Vivid images of _Gaia_ floated to the surface of her mind, memories of a settlement that had ceased to exist; too _never_ exist, because _she_ needed a life-saving treatment that could only be had back on _Deep Space Nine_. Kira remembered the two hundred plus version of her best friend and former lover and how the present, the _now_ _Odo_, had slowly began to blossom in a bittersweet and ghostly resemblance shortly before his return to the Great Link. In a blink of an eye, the memories shifted to another set; equally painful in hindsight. Whether it was the generosity of the Prophets or not, Kira found herself reliving the death of Vedek Bareil as his brain had slowly shut down; gradually killing him as he lay prone on the bio-bed in the infirmary. His unnecessary loss had only served to fuel the hatred for the then-Kai Winn, which resulted in the less then sympathetic feelings of loss when word had filtered back to the station that her body had been discovered in the now dormant Fire Caves. But through it all, _he_ was there; there to comfort and listen to her through the tears and frustrations. Odo had been the wall at her back, the rock on which she leaned on during whatever crisis her life was going through. Through it all, he had been a constant, one that she had taken for granted numerous times and not that he was gone, Kira felt herself spiraling into nothingness with no hope of there being someone to catch her.

Cautiously drawing a test sip from her steaming mug, Kira fought the strong urge to spit the boiling hot liquid from her mouth as it scolded her tongue and the roof of her mouth. It seemed to Kira that the Prophets themselves were trying to subtly tell her something, despite the lack of an Orb for which to facilitate their communications. Wincing at the discomfort caused by the raktajino's temperature, she conceded that perhaps Winn had been in her own way following the will of Bajor's Prophets despite the fact that she had used the office of her people's most powerful spiritual figurehead to further her own gains. _"The Prophets work in mysterious ways,"_ Captain Sisko had once commented off-handedly during a conversation with the station's vedek at the time. Kira found herself agreeing with the man that Kai Opeka had recognized for all time as the Emissary. Kira blew gently on the surface of the raktajino as her thoughts and memories continued to take her mind back down the worn beaten path into the past. The surface rippled gently, tugging on another memory from her past.

_As they made their way to an alien-looking amber lake, Kira absently noted that despite the obvious evidence of flora there was no sun to light their way on the planet's surface. As if they were of a single mind, both she and Odo had come to an abrupt stop at the lake's edges. Kira gazed with wide-eyed wonder into the horizon as the calm lake seemed to stretch beyon, before glances over at her companion. She watched as her Shapeshifter friend gazed into the golden body before them, seemingly transfixed with wondrous joy. The sound of moving liquid drew her attention back to the shimmering lake and she watched in a mixture of joy and pleasure as several pillars erupted from the calm surface. Slowly the columns seemed to melt and sculpt themselves simultaneously into a rough statuesque form before gradually carving details that morphed into unfinished faces similar to the one that Odo wore._

_Kira noted that while their bodies were more detailed, mimicking the differences between male and female by the shape and size of the curvatures, they had fashioned simply Bajoran style tunics. _Perhaps for Odo's benefit? _She had thought at the time as she watched the nearest one, who appeared to be female, glide across the surface the amber lake without causing the simplest ripple. Kira bit back the bitter taste of being ignored, unwilling to ruin the moment for her friend. "Welcome home," the female shapeshifter had said to an overwhelmed Odo._

Tears stung Kira's eyes as the memory was abruptly banished back to the recesses of her mind. After the life he had been forced into leading, separated from those of his own kind and then to be persecuted when his choices went against the collective demand, Kira couldn't stop herself from wishes that Odo had never found his people to begin with. Long before she had known of the true extent of his feelings for her, Kira had felt his hurt at the discover of exactly _who_ his people were. She had tried to show him that despite who his people were, he wasn't like them and that he did indeed have _very_ strong links outside of the Great Link.

Drinking a comforting sip from the cooled off raktajino, she gently rocked herself. While she still didn't know the full rationalizations behind his initial rejection of his people, Kira had finally wrangled it out of him that she had been the catalyst one night after they had been together for a few weeks. She had accepted that part of his decision had been based upon _who_ his people really were, but Kira didn't know the rest. Sighing, "and I probably never will." She had never pressured him for answers, answers that he had been obviously unwilling to give, and had settled for that part of him that he would only share with her in the privacy in either one of their quarters. By the time that he had decided that it was time to return, there wasn't a part of him that Kira didn't know and she had felt honored that he had shared himself completely with her. Looking down at the beverage in her hands, Kira set the mug on the table. The raktajino had grown too cold and she found herself no longer in the mood for it.

From the corner of her eye, Kira noted something glistening on her prayer mandala. Turning her head slightly, she gasped as a shimmer of golden liquid shot into the air and was swallowed by the ceiling over her quarters. Stumbling over her own feet, Kira unceremoniously crashed to the floor as the liquid disappeared over head. As she cursed at herself, she hobbled into her bedroom as she called out. "Security, report to Colonel Kira's quarters, intruder alert! Watch out, it's a Changeling!" As she slipped the sash around her robe into a tight knot, Kira wondered if it had been Odo lurking there. _But why would he conceal his presence, Nerys?_ She shook her head sadly, remembering that there were only three Founders aboard the station and neither were hers.

She had just finished the final loop on her robe when Kira heard her quarter's door open and the distinct sound of footsteps. "Colonel Kira, where is he?" Lieutenant Nimoy asked as he approached her, his phaser hanging limply at his side.

The Bajoran Colonel stared in exasperation at the station's current Starfleet security chief. "The _Changeling_ just disappeared into my ceiling." The Bajoran deputies quickly set themselves the task of scanning every micro-inch of Kira's quarters.

"With all due respect, Colonel, that's not possible." Bajoran Deputy N'eerg said, "I _just_ spoke with Ambassador Tsubasa outsideof Quark's and he informed me that the other two Founders where resting in their suites. Sir, I know that they can move fast, but I don't think that _even they_ can move _that_ fast."

"So, I'm hallucinating then? Perhaps there is more then the three Founders that we are _aware_ of on this station. And since when do we take the word of a Founder over the station's commander!" Kira snapped as she drew the robe tighter against her lean frame. Whirling on her chief of security, "question the Founders. Find out where they have been since they've come on board the station. I also what you to speak with Doctor Bashir, have him help you track their movements using the station's internal sensors. As I understand, _every_ living thing leaves behind a cellular trail."

"Don't worry, _Colonel_. Believe it or not, I _do know_ how to do my job. However, I am deeply sorry that I am _not _in the same caliber as _your_ Constable Odo. It seems to me that I lack his _unique_...skills." Lieutenant Nimoy said dryly. He held up his hand to stall her outraged protests. "But rest assured that I will throughly question our Gamma Quadrant guests, though I can't quite believe that they've traveled ninety thousand light years just to satisfy a voyeuristic _kink_."

Kira fumed silently as Nimoy's personnel quickly wrapped up their scans and followed him out of her quarters. Feeling exposed and naked, Kira grabbed some clothes from her wardrobe. She stood in the middle of her bedroom, looking uncertain back and forth between her bathroom and door to her quarters. Abruptly her started walking of their own accord, taking her through her quarters and out the door. It was as though an outside force was controlling her, guiding her way through the officers' section of the Habitat Ring. Looking up, Kira nearly jumped out of her skin as she realized where her feet had unconsciously led her to. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks as she punched in the access code as she held the small bundle of clothing tightly to her chest.

Stepping across the threshold, Kira fell to her knees and sobbed. Despite the lack of furnishings, she could still feel the ghost of his presence lingering. Sniffling, she crawled through the quarters and into the bathroom. After starting the sonic shower, Kira peeled off her robe and tossed it into the recycler before stepping into the sonic shower. The Bajoran slumped against the stall's wall as sobs wracked her lean body once agin. "_Odo_ where are you!" Kira pounded the walls alternating only to kick out at them before collapsing to the floor, her legs tucked beneath her as her body assumed a prayer-like posture. "Prophets, watch over him and guide him as his destiny has taken him far from the gates of the Celestial Temple. Keep my _heart_ in health, ease his pain and keep him safe." Kira's voice broke with emotion before she fell silent, willing the gods of her people to hear her prayer.

Turning the shower off, Kira wearily slipped on the bundle of clothes that she'd brought on her trek from her own quarters. Fresh tears collected at the rims of her eyes as she noticed that for the first time the quarters wasn't as empty as she had previously thought. Kira flung herself down on the bed tucked up against the wall and curled in on herself into a fetal position. The swell of moisture in her eyes overflowed and spilled down her cheeks to soak into the pillow. In between gut wrenching sobs, Kira yawned. As sleep crept upon her, Kira's thoughts stayed with the shapeshifting thief who had stolen her heart.

A groan escaped her lips as her eyes moved rapidly behind closed lids. Kira tossed her head back and forth as her hands clutched the bedding tightly, her knuckles turning a ghastly shade of white. Her legs kicked out, trying in vain to strike invisible assailants from her dream. "_No, Odo!_" Kira screamed as her sleeping body threshed around in response to the dream events. Abruptly Kira jerked upright, a fine sheen of sweat coating her body as she willed her racing heart to slow. "Odo," she whispered into the darkness engulfing her. Kira's brow furrowed as she tried to recall scrapes of dream memory.

"Shh, Nerys, it was only a bad dream." A familiar gravely voice whispered into her ear as strong arms encircled her and held her tightly.

Surrendering instantly, Kira snuggled against the lean form of her lover. Lying her head on his collarbone, she sighed contentedly. "I've missed you, Odo, more then I can possibly ever tell you."

"I know, Nerys, but must move on and find someone who can make you happy."

A soft smile made its way onto her face as she relished the feel of his fingers stroking her hair. "There's no one, my love." Shifting so that she lay half on him, "how could there be? A _pagh_ has but two pieces that perfectly match in every conceivable way and you're _my _missing piece."

"Nerys, _please_..."

"Odo, let's not fight. We've been apart for four years and I, for one, don't want to spoil our reunion." Kira yawned as her lover rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Sleep, Nerys, I'll be here to watch over you." Odo whispered softly as he drew a blanket over her.

Yawning, "but I am." Sighing softly, she snuggled contentedly against her phantom lover and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Disguised as an elderly Vulcan, Odo passed by his old office. Superstitiously, he glanced inside and absently noted the absence of security personnel manning the office. His pace quickened as the roar of the crowd from within called to him. Feeling a rush of adrenaline coursing through his being as beneath the "solid" exterior of his form tiny ripples cascaded through his body. "Four years is a _long_ time, I wonder...I just _wonder_ what kind of reaction I can get out of you, _Quark_." He muttered softly to himself as he reached the threshold of the Frengi's gambling establishment.


End file.
